Illegitimate
by deadweight-x
Summary: And suddenly, the illegitimate Winchester was thrust upon her unsuspecting half-brothers. And they were less than pleased. And she wasn't so happy either.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: this story originally belongs to 494dwangel, whose version is titled 'Unwanted'. This is only my spin-off. I also do not own anything in relation to the show Supernatural. I only own Kitney Winchester (but not her last name, because that's in relation to the show).

For the life of her, Kitney could never remember a time when her life was on the fast track to happiness. According to her mother, her father had ditched them when she first told him she was pregnant. Having worked as a waitress her entire life, Jane didn't really have the money to support a baby, so she never had the ideal childhood. There were never any birthdays or Christmases, and Kit rarely even saw her mother since she worked so often.

Of course, she didn't really care all that much. After all, if you've never had something in the first place, you can't necessarily miss it. Kitney wasn't actually aware little kids didn't raise themselves until she was nine, when one of her classmates parents saw her shopping at the grocery store by herself. She'd managed to pass it off as her mother being in the restroom while she finished getting all the things they needed in the cart. It was the moment Kit finally realized that it wasn't normal for a mother to never be around. That was when she started reading every book and watching every movie she could get her hands on, to learn what the world was really supposed to be like. What families were really like.

It was Kitney's anger towards her mother's neglect that caused her to feel very little when she watched Jane get dragged under her bed by an unseen force only three days after her twelfth birthday. She continued on with her life as normal until her next door neighbor realized her mother hadn't come home in three weeks and reported it.

It led to her current situation, sitting on the top of the stairs in the town home her mother rented while two men she'd never met before argued in her kitchen. They were apparently her older half-brothers on her father's side, Sam and Dean Winchester. To say they were put off by her mere presence in the world was an understatement. Apparently, their mother had died when they were young and they never expected their father to move on.

From several grief counseling books she'd read in her spare time, Kitney could conclude the two were not only naive but utterly ignorant, too. To assume one would never move on after the death of a loved one was ridiculous, even if the so called 'moving on' was a slew of one night stands across the country. She also concluded that their anger in regards to her being alive was rather irrational. As if she could control the fact that their father, hers too she grudgingly admitted, and her mother decided to roll the dice with an outdated condom.

The only reason her two older brothers had come to her house was due to the fact their father had apparently flaked and was missing entirely. When the police had called John Winchester's cell phone number, the only number they could find in regards to him, his voice mail had alerted them that in case of emergency they should call his son, Dean Winchester, which the police then decided was the best course of action.

Kitney heavily disagreed. It was obvious from the look on the older Winchester's face the moment he walked through the front door of her house that he hated her. It was to her immense shock that the knowledge of his disdain actually hurt her.

As she sat at the top of the stairs, she forced herself to deduce the logical reasons that would lead to the emotion. Jane's careless attitude in regards to her had only made her angry, never sad. Her classmate's adverse reactions to her might have caused her to become rather socially inept, but it didn't sadden her.

"Sam, are you fucking kidding me?" Dean snapped from the kitchen downstairs, "You want to take that... that little... I don't even know what to call her. Dad's mistake? Our bastard sister? The illegitimate Winchester? On the road with us!"

"Dean, something got her mom. Kitney's witness statement said that something grabbed her ankle and pulled her mother under the bed. When she looked for her, Kitney said she was gone and that something told her to go back to sleep."

"She's a kid," Dean snorted, "She probably got so scared that she made the whole thing up so she didn't have to actually remember what happened."

Kit rolled her eyes heavily, leaning her chin on her fist. Of course, her insignificant twelve year old mind couldn't possibly comprehend the occurrences of that night. She also couldn't tie her shoes or brush her teeth.

"She's twelve years old Dean, I think she knows what she saw. You can't honestly tell me that you think her mom was kidnapped. There was no sign of forced entry, nothing was stolen, the alarm system didn't even go off. There were marks on the ground going under that bed. Something happened here, Dean," The younger of the two snapped back, "We can't just leave her here, to be put in the system."

"You're being ridiculous," Dean exclaimed, almost audibly rolling his eyes.

They were both being ridiculous in Kitney's opinion. The nagging ache in her chest got worse and worse every time her oldest brother spoke. He really despised her very existence. With a silent sigh, she stood off the top step and quietly walked into her room, dropping unceremoniously onto her bed and digging a book out from under the blanket.

The paper back copy of Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carol was quite out of sorts, the front cover was almost completely torn off and a good portion of the pages had been haphazardly taped into place. Most of her books were in the same condition. She'd bought most of them at garage sales with the money Jane had left her for groceries.

With careful and deliberate movements, she opened the pages to where her bookmark, an old Wal-Mart receipt, was placed and began reading. She only got a few pages in before there was a knock on her door, soft and hesitant. Kit rolled her eyes; it was most likely Sam, the one who wouldn't openly show his hatred for her but would still harbor it.

"It's not locked," She stated, turning another page in her book nonchalantly as her half-brother ducked into the room.

"Hey, uh, Kitney," He gave a forced smile, obviously put off by the sight of her room.

It was predominantly covered by stacks upon stacks of movies and books. Her bed, which was actually just a mattress pushed into a corner with a cocoon of blankets near the pillow, was also piled with books. Clothes were folded cleanly just under her window, once again surrounded by books, and her backpack was sitting just beside her door, unzipped with a slew of thick, hardcover textbooks spilling out.

"So, what did you come up with?" She questioned, not looking up from the page she was reading.

"Oh, uhm," Sam trailed off for a minute, still slightly stunned by the sheer number of books in her room and the absolute lack of furniture.

Kit closed her book softly, glancing up at him with an irritated look on her face, "Yes?"

"Dean and I, uh, decided that, uhm, it might be best if you came with us. Is this your, uh," He cleared his throat as he looked around, "Is this your room?"

"Yeah, this is my room. Jane's was down the hall on the left, if you wanted to check out the scratch marks I imagined," She stated in a mockingly serious tone.

Sam blinked for a moment, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at her. With the exception of the brown eyes that she, himself, and their dad shared, Kitney didn't resemble any of the Winchester men all that much. But the look she was giving him was one he quite recognized. It was the same look Dean gave him when irritated. It was the only thing he really needed in order to be sure they were actually related.

"Look, Kitney," He sighed, nimbly stepping around her hoards of books and sitting on the floor in front of her mattress, "I know our first impression wasn't the best. Dean's got a stick shoved so far up his ass I don't think it's ever coming out and I don't do well with surprises. That doesn't make up for how we treated you though, and I'm sorry."

He could see the internal struggle the twelve year old sitting in front of him had and it astounded him. She was trying to crush the little flicker of hope that had been lighting her dark hazel eyes, not allowing him to sway her opinion of them.

"Doesn't matter," Kit stated a moment later, setting her book down on top of her blanket and standing up, causing Sam to do the same, "You can't change what's already happened."

Sam smiled when she walked around him and headed towards her door, watching her messy, light brown hair sway all the way down to her hips in kinked waves. There was definitely a shine of the Winchester attitude in little her, of that he was certain. He shook himself out of his thoughts and followed her down the stairs, noticing with another smile how she seemed to hop down the steps.

"Don't you have any food?" Dean demanded rudely when she reached the bottom, causing Kitney to blink a few times to hide her emotion.

"Not right now," She stated, looking away from him and towards the living room, "I haven't gone grocery shopping since Jane got taken. Are you guys gonna stay overnight?"

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but Sam promptly cut him off, "If you have the space. There's a motel just down the road."

Kit's small, freckled nose twitched slightly, "There's one guest bedroom. One of you could sleep in Jane's old room, but I wouldn't suggest it. He doesn't like when strangers go in there. I'll make up the pull out bed from the couch."

She turned to go back up the stairs, only to have Sam stop her by grabbing her arm lightly, "He, Kitney? Who's he?"

"The thing that took Jane," Kitney stated, giving the pair a look that dared them not to believe her, "He liked the room after he took her away, so he came back."

"He liked the room?" Dean snorted and rolled his eyes, "Do you really think that thing just _liked the room_?"

"That's what he told me," Kit pursed her lips, feeling tears rise in her eyes but not letting them fall, "I don't care if you believe me or not."

She quickly pulled away from Sam and hopped calmly back up the stairs, heading for the linen closest at the end of the hall. There was a shuffling sound inside of Jane's old room as she passed, causing her to walk faster.

"Dean!" She heard Sam snap in a hushed tone, "Stop being such an asshole."

"It's a fucking malevolent entity, Sam," He hissed back, "You can't honestly believe what she said."

"I believe that whatever it is told her that's why it was staying," Kit could almost hear Sam gritting his teeth, "I'm a little more worried that it's _talking to her_."

Dean was quiet as Kitney collected some mismatched bed-dressings, ignoring the sounds of scratching coming from Jane's room. She'd gotten used to her visitors odd sounds and had stopped bothering him except for when she was trying to sleep. Getting back down the stairs with the pile of sheets was not as easy as Kit expected it to be and she nearly tripped half way down, only to be caught by an unseen force that left as soon as she regained balance.

"Kitney, what was that sound?" Sam asked, walking out of the kitchen and around the stairway.

"I slipped a little," She replied nonchalantly, managing to find her way down the stairs with no further accident.

Both of her brothers seemed to exchange looks with each other before their eyes found their way back to their little sister. Kitney neatly placed the bed dressings on the floor and went about pushing the heavy coffee table out of the way so she could pull out the couch, ignoring Sam's offer to help and Dean's scoff. Pulling the bed out wasn't actually as difficult as it should've been, as she once again was helped by something the naked eye couldn't see. She murmured a soft thank you that neither of her brothers could hear before quickly making up the bed and setting a pillow near the top.

"We don't have any more spare pillows, I'll go grab mine for you," She stated before turning and loping up the stairs before either of the boys could respond.

"I think she's mentally stunted," She heard Dean state nonchalantly.

"Dean, what the fuck?" Sam snapped back, causing Kit to roll her eyes as she waded into her room of books and snatched the pillow off her bed.

"She doesn't even seem the slightest bit upset by the fact that something literally grabbed her mother and pulled her under a bed. Not to mention the fact that the thing that took her mother is still living in the house."

"She's probably repressing it, Dean," The taller of the two Winchester boys responded angrily, "Do you really expect her to be able to comprehend what's going on?"

Before Dean could respond, Kit came hopping down the stairs once again, quickly switching the covering on the pillow before placing it next to the other, "Is there anything you guys want to eat? I'm gonna go to the store."

"Whatever you can make is fine," Sam stated with a smile, elbowing his older brother roughly in the stomach.

Dean hunched over with a grunt, "Yeah, whatever."

The pair watched as she slid past them and into the kitchen, nimbly crawling onto the counter and getting on her knees to open one of the cabinets. Sam jolted forward, intending to grab her before she fell, but barely made it a few steps towards her before she was climbing back down.

"I'll be back in an hour or two," She said, pulling out a couple of bills from the jar she'd retrieved from the cabinet, "Make yourselves at home."

Dean and Sam watched as she pulled on a knitted hat and matching scarf with her winter jacket before heading out the door without another word. The kid was a puzzle to the pair of them—a highly unwanted puzzle in Dean's case.

"Can't we just get out of here while she's gone?" He demanded gruffly, glaring at his younger brother in a characteristically petulant manner.

"You are a terrible person," Sam stated with a disbelieving laugh, "She's spending the last of her money to feed us, you jackass, there's nothing left in that jar. And that pillow she went back to get? It was the only one on her bed—if you could even call it a bed. She has been nothing less than absolutely polite to you and all you do is snap at her."

"Are you saying that I don't have a reason to be mad?" Dean demanded loudly, "Dad had a kid with another woman, Sam!"

"And you're blaming it on an innocent twelve year old girl!" Sam yelled in response, throwing the glass jar in his hand on the floor, causing both brothers to freeze.

"You broke it," Dean delegated quickly before darting out of the kitchen and into the guest room, where he promptly slammed the door shut and locked it.

"Jerk," Sam muttered, only to have Dean respond a moment later with a loud, "BITCH!"

Ah bon~ So, that's the end of the first chapter.

If you read, please be a dear and leave a review, anonymous or otherwise.

And thanks to 494dwangel for letting me create a spin off of her story. (It's quite appreciated).


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: this story originally belongs to 494dwangel, whose version is titled 'Unwanted'. This is only my spin-off. I also do not own anything in relation to the show Supernatural. I only own Kitney Winchester (but not her last name, because that's in relation to the show).

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><p>Kitney felt like a failure as she relented under the extreme pressure that told her to return to her brothers. She should've just bolted, after all neither Sam nor Dean (especially not Dean) wanted her in their life. The forty dollars she'd taken from the jar would've gotten her out of the city limits and her immense intelligence would make up for her age and lack of material possessions. There were books on petty thievery and Kit had, like with most other subjects, read all of them she could get her hands on.<p>

The act of walking through the door was difficult and yet seemed so terribly necessary. The bags in her arms felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each and there was an overwhelming sense of despair hanging over her head. She could hear her neighbor calling her name, the same neighbor that had informed the authorities of her mother's disappearance. To say the least, Kitney had no interest in speaking to the woman so she quickly tapped her toes against the step that lead to her front door to dislodge the snow and pretended she couldn't hear the busybody bitch.

A loud, abrupt gasp left her lips upon stepping into her house. It was entirely trashed as far as she could see. The pullout bed was flipped over, the TV was shattered and across the room, the curtains were shredded and spread over the room, not to mention there were giant gashes in the carpet and the bloodstains now drying in the fabric. As she walked forward, suddenly terrified and gripping the shopping bags in her hands excruciatingly tight, she could see the cabinets in the kitchen were all open and everything that had been inside of them was on the floor. The refrigerator was open and tipped on its front covering what looked to Kit like a sawed off shotgun.

"What happened..?" She whispered, feeling a gentle pressure at the small of her back.

_"were trying... take me away... from you Kitten..."_

"W-who?" Kitney whimpered, needing to know where the blood in the living room had come from.

_"brothers... think... hurt you... couldn't let... won't leave... watch over Kitten."_

"Did you kill them? Like Jane?"

_"no... want... Kitten... want me... hurt?"_

"No, I don't want you to hurt them. I think they were trying to... protect me."

_"they take... my kitten... want... go... stay... watch over..."_

"I'm having trouble understanding you," she said softly, "You need to rest now, regain your strength."

_"Kitten go... must... them... always... safe with..."_

"Kitney," Sam's voice came from the guest room, "Sweetie, you need to come here, quickly."

A pair of arms wrapped around her protectively and she was lifted onto the counter. The air cracked and grew colder as her ghostly protector drew energy from the air. The two lights in the kitchen ceiling popped, causing her to squeak.

_"got... guns... hurt kitten... accident... stay back..."_

"Why do you have guns?" Kitney shrieked in shock, "In my house!"

"Come here kid! That thing could kill you!" Dean shouted back.

"The only thing that could kill me in here are those /guns/!" She cried out in frustration, "I don't like guns! Make 'em go away!"

Both the pantry and guest room doors swung open abruptly, two guns and a knife flying into the kitchen and under the fridge. A gentle pressure once again pressed at the small of her back, easing her off the counter.

_"...told them... guns... sorry... tried-stop..."_

"Kitney, what's going on?"

"You guys hurt him," She frowned, "Why would you do that? He's never done anything to you."

"He killed your mother, Kitney!" Sam exclaimed in shock, "What don't you understand about that?"

The small twelve year old clenched her fists, eyes closing tightly in frustration, "You don't even understand! Jane was hurting me! She was going to hit me with the stupid lamp, he killed her so she couldn't kill me!"

The tension in the house seemed to rise. The strong arms once again wrapped around Kitney's middle and she was lifted up off the kitchen floor and carried to the stairs. Her ghostly companion seemed too tired to continue communicating verbally and was retreating back to Jane's room. As Kit slipped up the stairs, ignoring her half-brother's confused calls, she could see through the open door that her mother's room was probably worse off than the rest of the house. She could only guess that Sam and Dean had ambushed him inside, hoping to trap him.

"Why did you have to do that?" She sighed, sitting back on the steps with her chin rested in her hands.

"You had a malevolent entity hanging out in your house and you're wondering why we tried to get rid of it?" Dean snapped.

"He's not malevolent. He's never done anything to hurt anyone who hasn't threatened me," Kitney spat back, brown eyes narrowing angrily.

"Look, we obviously made a mistake," Sam stated, putting his hand heavily on Dean's shoulder, "We should've asked you if it was bad before we tried to get rid of it."

The little girl only sighed and looked back over her shoulder up the stairs, "I guess, if it's alright with you guys, we might as well just get going. The kitchen's useless and there's no reason to spend the night here when all the beds are trashed."

"I'm sorry, Kitney," Sam stated softly.

"Doesn't matter. Can't change it now." She responded, words sounding a bit too much like what she'd said to him earlier for Sam's tastes.

"It does matter, it upset you Kitney," Sam's lips pursed and his lower jaw stiffened with determination.

"Oh drop it, she doesn't want to talk about it, I don't want to talk about it, It probably doesn't want to talk about it either. You're out numbered Sammy." Dean rolled his eyes, turning away from the stairs and heading towards the front door, "Get your crap, we'll leave in twenty minutes."

There was a certain level of disappointment in Kitney's mind as she nodded her head and stood, heading for her bedroom. Of course she'd expected Dean to drop the subject of her discomfort, but it seemed as though some part of her wished he hadn't. She wished he would've at least pretended to care about her, even a little.

She managed to shove her meager wardrobe into one duffle bag, along with nearly ten of her favourite books and the rather pathetic amount of hygiene and beauty supplies she owned. After dumping out her backpack, she stuffed it until it was nearly bursting with books and movies. A glance around the room left her with a heavy feeling in her chest. It wasn't much, at all, but Kitney would miss her special, personal space.

A knock at the door made her jump, dropping her heavy backpack abruptly. The loud sound startled Sam and he opened the door, looking around for anything out of the ordinary. When all he saw was a less than amused Kitney, he gave her a small smile and stepped into the room, picking her duffle bag off the bed and heaving it over his shoulder.

"Almost ready? Where's the rest of your stuff?"

"That's it," She shrugged, picking her backpack up once again, "And this. I'm ready now."

"Oh. Okay," Kit could see his suspicion but refused to comment, "So, uh, Dean got knocked around a bit, so he's sore and a bit pissed off so try not to irritate him to much…"

"Don't worry, I won't be talking to him unless it's completely unavoidable."

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><p>I do apologize for how excessively long it took to update. I won't lie to you and promise a faster update this time though, because it's highly unlikely. Some more reviews would definitely make me very happy though. (: I hope you enjoyed this post, please continue following.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: this story originally belongs to 494dwangel, whose version is titled 'Unwanted'. This is only my spin-off. I also do not own anything in relation to the show Supernatural. I only own Kitney Winchester (but not her last name, because that's in relation to the show).

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><p>Kitney found she couldn't allow herself to fall asleep in the Impala. Dean was too close and had made his hatred all too clear. She couldn't even assure herself that Sam would protect her from him. So, she resigned herself to sit in the back seat, using her bag as a pillow, and read. Dean's music was still playing loudly and Sam had escaped into sleep with the assistance of his iPod.<p>

Reading Oliver Twist in the dark while listening to mullet rock wasn't the easiest task in the world, but she didn't dare say anything. The look on Dean's face had been pissed since they left the townhouse and hadn't gotten any better. She was sure she wouldn't survive a conversation at such a point. At any point, really. The likelihood of Dean ever coming to like her was slim to none.

Much to her annoyance, Kit once again found herself discouraged by this fact. She cared if Sam and Dean liked her. There was very little importance in her mind in regards to anyone else's feelings towards her, but their opinions mattered. She still wasn't even sure why, though it most likely stemmed from their care and love for each other. Having only rarely been exposed to pleasant emotional situations, Kitney could never really attest to what love was. After encountering her brothers though, she was able to understand the rather daunting concept and figured she did, indeed, desire it.

The whole situation frustrated her. Ever since they came into her life, it had flipped upside down and twisted inside out. Everything was messed up. She really couldn't handle so much change, especially in such a sort amount of time. Tears began to well in her eyes and she quickly sunk lower into her seat, bringing her legs up from where they'd been resting across the seat.

"You better not have shoes on my seats," Dean seemed to growl from the front.

Kitney directed her suddenly panicked eyes towards her feet, heart stuttering slightly in relief when she only saw socks, "No sir."

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I'm… n-not tired," She stated softly, the nervous feeling in her stomach returning so quickly that she felt nauseas.

"You haven't slept since yesterday night," Dean rolled his eyes, glancing at her through the mirror, "What's the real reason?"

Kitney stilled in fear, "I can't, uh, g-get comfortable."

Suddenly, without even checking the roads first, he pulled onto the shoulder and got out of the car. Sam didn't even stir as Dean got out and walked around, opening the trunk. The trunk where the pair kept all of their weaponry. Kit's heart began to slam against her rib cage like a hammer. She quickly scurried away from the door she had been previously resting against to the other side of the backseat, curling her arms around her knees tightly. When Dean opened the door, he couldn't help but blink in confusion at the sight of Kitney, white as a sheet, pressed against the other door.

"What's the matter?" Dean demanded quickly, sliding into the backseat and closing the door behind him.

"N-N-," Kit's lips trembled, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" He snapped, entirely panicked due to her distress.

"I-I-I'll go to s-sleep," She whimpered, "I'll sleep… sorry…"

Dean felt like he'd been slapped in the face as the realization that she was afraid of _h__im_ presented itself. The reason a tiny, twelve year old girl was nearly in convulsions from shivering so hard in terror was him. It seemed he might have been a bit too hard on her.

"Hey Kitney," Dean cleared his throat to dispel the perpetual growl in his tone, "Look, I'm not going to get mad because you can't sleep. The backseat ain't meant to be a bed."

When she still didn't move, he signed and grabbed the bundle he dropped behind him upon seeing her panic. For a moment, her entire body tensed up and he realized she'd thought whatever he brought from the trunk was to hurt her with.

"I just grabbed a couple of blankets for you," He grumbled, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, "And a pair of your pajamas. Figured it would make you more comfortable."

Fighting the survival instincts that told her to stay as still as possible, Kit looked up and towards his face. A mixture of sheepishness and frustration had replaced the anger from before. With slow, deliberate movements, she reached out and grabbed the pile of fabric from his outstretched hands.

"Can you change in here, or should I find a gas station?" He questioned gruffly.

"I can change in here," She murmured, once again directing her eyes towards her lap.

"No, don't do that," Dean ordered, startling her slightly, causing him to sigh, "I'm not asking so you can give the answer you think will make me happy. Are _you _comfortable changing in the car, or should I find a place to stop?"

"I can change in here, really," She repeated, voice slightly stronger at his insistence.

Dean gave a stern nod before getting out of the backseat and walking around the car once again, climbing back into the driver's seat. He made a point not to look back as he listened to her shuffle around, pulling back onto the road carefully and setting the cruise control.

"We'll stop in a couple of hours. Get some sleep," He muttered, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he trained his thoughts once again on where they were headed.

"Okay," She murmured, shifting to lay down after changing and pulling a blanket around her shoulders, "Uh, thank you."

"Yeah, whatever. Shut up and sleep."

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><p>AN: What a terribly long wait. Sorry everyone. Hopefully you'll stick with me, regardless of my epically long breaks. Reviews? Perhaps, three would make me update within the week? Mhmm, that sounds about right...


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: this story originally belongs to 494dwangel, whose version is titled 'Unwanted'. This is only my spin-off. I also do not own anything in relation to the show Supernatural. I only own Kitney Winchester (but not her last name, because that's in relation to the show).

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><p>Kitney woke to the uncomfortable jostling sensation that accompanied being picked up. She opened her eyes slowly, a whine that sounded odd even to her ears slipping from her lips. Sam's chuckle was just barely audible as she tried to clear the fog in her head, squirming in his arms to be put down. The tallest Winchester complied, steadying the small girl on her feet before moving around to the trunk of the car to retrieve their bags.<p>

She glanced around and saw Dean inside the office of the motel, grabbing a key from the man behind the desk. When he turned and started to walk out, she quickly darted back into the backseat of the Impala to grab her backpack and blanket, holding both to her chest nervously.

Regardless of his prior actions in the car, Kitney still felt wary of him. He didn't like her and she knew that. His extreme distaste for her as a result of his father's mistakes wasn't exactly logical, but she could understand him not wanting her to be literally afraid of him. After all, that could certainly lead to complications.

"I got a room, let's go," Dean stated shortly, taking two bags from the trunk before closing it with a slam.

"Come on, Kitney," Sam offered her a smile nudging her back gently with his free hand while the other held two duffle bags over his shoulder.

She made a quick, mental observation of their strength before falling in step behind Sam. The younger brother was not tired, having slept for a good six hours in the car. Dean on the other hand, looked like he was about to drop as he opened the door to their motel room and stepped inside. Kitney was also rather drowsy, having slept but about thirty minutes before Dean found a place for them to sleep.

"There are two beds, Kit will have to share with one of us," Sam stated, dropping the bags to the ground.

The room was instantly full of tension and she quickly excused herself to the bathroom, not wanting to be around when they started arguing about who would take the burden. She already knew she was an unwanted addition; there was no need for her to listen as they tried to force her on each other so they wouldn't have to be bothered. Sadly, the walls were thin and the door to the bathroom wasn't sturdy enough to block out their yelling. Luckily, they took it outside before it could get too bad.

The mirror was dirty, but it didn't stop Kitney from frowning at herself. Books she'd read told her that having self-image issues were normal for twelve year old girls; it was when they started developing into adults, growing in places they'd never grown before, learning things about the world that weren't always so candy-coated and nice, feeling differently about things that happened every day. She knew though that her self-doubts weren't exactly run of the mill. It was rare that she cared what her body looked like and she'd been introduced to the harsh realities of the world when most kids didn't even know what 'harsh' meant.

No, her insecurities revolved around how every person in her family seemed to dislike her and that she could only find comfort in the form of poltergeists.

It wasn't at all normal and it wasn't at all fair. She could hear Sam and Dean yelling at each other through the door, each trying to avoid sharing a bed with her. As she stared at herself in the mirror, she told herself once again that their hatred was irrational and stemmed from their own unstable pasts and family history. She'd done nothing to garner their dislike and didn't deserve it.

"_I could hurt her in my sleep Dean!" _Sam bellowed, _"I can't control myself when I'm having those nightmares!"_

"_You're the one who wanted to take her in, Sammy, not me! She's your damn responsibility!"_ Dean shouted back.

"_She's your sister too, dammit!"_

"_I didn't ask for her!"_

The door to the room slammed open and closed and she realized that they'd taken their argument outside, much to her relief. If she was smart, she would've left then; taken her backpack and ran. They obviously didn't want her in their lives and she had no interest in forcing herself on them. A sigh of dejection left her lips at the thought, knowing it was a lie. She did want to force herself on them; she wanted to be a part of their little family. For once she wanted someone tangible to enjoy her company, to want her around.

"Could've asked me," She murmured to herself as she walked out of the bathroom, gathering her backpack and the blanket she'd been using in the car and sitting down in the corner of the room, "Don't wanna share a bed with them anyway…"

She pressed her bag against the wall and laid her head down on it, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders. Sleeping in an actual bed likely would've made her uncomfortable anyway, considering she was used to a mattress on the floor. A bed would put her too high up off the ground to sleep, she would be afraid to fall off.

Falling asleep in the corner was much easier than falling asleep in the Impala; Kitney was out before her brothers even returned, half an hour later, and hardly stirred when they brashly slammed the door open, still arguing. The pair fell silent upon seeing her curled up on the floor, both feeling a sting of remorse.

"See that?" Sam spat, glaring at his brother and pointing towards the corner, "That's your fault."

"My fault? You could've just let her share with you!" Dean glared back, waving his hands in frustration, "It's your fault."

"We both know why I can't share a bed with her, or anyone, Dean," The taller Winchester walked into the bathroom without waiting for his brother's response, slamming the door shut behind him.

Dean grumbled angrily under his breath, pulling out one of the rickety chairs at the table and sitting down roughly. For a moment he sat in silence, before a small huff caught his attention and his eyes were once again drawn to his half-sister. She had rolled onto her back in her sleep, one hand thrown above her head while the other was at face level, where she'd put her thumb in her mouth. A barely noticeable smile crossed his features; it was the same position Sam had slept in as a child.

With a sigh, he stood with heavy bones from the chair and walked over to where she lay, lifting her into his arms as gently as possible with her blanket. A groan of discontent slipped from her lips and she whined, pulling her thumb from her mouth and curling her hand into a fist that she tucked under her chin. He laid her on the bed he would be sleeping in for the night, leaving her on top of the covers with her blanket wrapped tightly around her.

There was no way in Hell he actually liked the kid. She was just a symbol of his father's unreliability and weakness; two things he didn't want to be reminded of constantly. But she was without a doubt a Winchester.

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><p>AN: Some of you are so demanding, nyuuh~ just remember, you promised to review every chapter!


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